With a stalker in the shadows...

She needs a protector at her side.

After Melanie Graham awakens in the woods injured and with no memory of what happened, she quickly learns someone wants her dead. Now she must rely on deputy sheriff Luke Baxter to protect her. But while there’s a spark between Melanie and the handsome veteran, they can’t afford a distraction...because if Luke doesn’t stop the mystery assailant soon, it may be too late.

JENNA NIGHT comes from a family of Southern-born natural storytellers. Her parents were avid readers and the house was always filled with books. No wonder she grew up wanting to tell her own stories. She’s lived on both coasts, but currently resides in the Inland Northwest, where she’s astonished by the occasional glimpse of a moose, a herd of elk or a soaring eagle.

Also By Jenna Night

Last Stand Ranch

High Desert Hideaway

Killer Country Reunion

Justice at Morgan Mesa

Lost Rodeo Memories

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Lost Rodeo Memories

Jenna Night

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09692-8

LOST RODEO MEMORIES

© 2019 Virginia Niten

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“Come on!” Luke grabbed Melanie’s arm and pulled her toward the trees on the side of the road where they could hide out of view.

“Maybe it’s someone who will help us!” she said excitedly.

“Maybe,” he said. Or maybe it was the shooter. Or an accomplice of the shooter. They had no proof that the assailant was acting alone.

Headlights rounded a twist in the road, washing Luke’s disabled truck in light, and then the vehicle stopped. It stayed on the road, engine idling.

After a few seconds it crept forward a little. And in the wash of the illumination from the headlights, the front of the rig became visible.

Beside him, he heard Melanie draw in a sharp breath.

“That truck looks familiar,” she whispered.

It looked familiar to Luke, too. He readied his gun, flicking off the safety, just in case. Then he pointed his flashlight toward the windshield of the truck and turned it on.

Dear Reader,

A new start in life can be a tricky thing.

Maybe it’s something you wanted and you’re excited, but also nervous.

Or maybe it’s something you never saw coming and you certainly didn’t ask for it.

Either way they’re an inevitable part of life.

Both Melanie and Luke were faced with changes in their lives, which meant they had to navigate unforeseen twists and turns in their paths. And then, to add to their stress, someone tried to kill Melanie! It’s amazing to me how often trouble shows up in bunches. When that happens to me, I try to handle the situation the way Melanie and Luke did. I try to take care of the practical challenges as best I can. And for the rest, I press on in faith.

I enjoy connecting with my readers. You can find me at my website, jennanight.com, on my Jenna Night Facebook page or you can follow me on Twitter, @night_jenna. My email address is Jenna@JennaNight.com. I’d love to hear from you. And I hope the new starts in your life lead you to greater faith, peace and love.

Jenna Night

But the Lord is faithful, who shall stablish you, and keep you from evil.

—2 Thessalonians 3:3

To my mom, Esther.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

“She’s alive!”

Melanie Graham wasn’t sure if she just heard someone yell something, or if she’d been asleep and dreaming. Feeling groggy, she lifted her heavy eyelids and found herself gazing at a dark night sky, dotted with spiky silver stars. Her view was silhouetted with pine-tree branches high overhead that shifted back and forth in the cool, swirling breeze.

That was odd.

When she’d gone to sleep last night, it was in a bed in a hotel room. Her lodgings were across the street from the Community Attractions Arena in Leopold, Wyoming. After three hectic days the Wild Ride Rodeo had come to an end. She’d carefully packaged up all the jewelry she had left in the sales booth she’d rented in the merchandise-and-concessions area—and there wasn’t much left over, as sales had been good—and then she’d gone to her hotel to relax and get a good night’s sleep. She distinctly remembered setting her alarm so she could wake up early and start the four-hundred-mile drive back home to Bowen, Idaho, just as the sun came up. So what was she doing lying on the ground?

“Ma’am, are you Melanie Graham?”

She shifted her gaze to look at the young man kneeling on the ground beside her. He was holding a flashlight and wearing a jacket with the words Event Security written across the front in big silvery reflective letters.

Apparently he’d been talking since she’d first opened her eyes, but his words hadn’t registered. The sound of them was like hearing someone speak on TV, in another room, when she wasn’t watching the program. It felt like what he was saying had nothing to do with her.

Except, maybe it did. Whatever was happening right now wasn’t a dream. It was real.

A jolt of terror shot through her chest, and she sat up, screaming and trying to crawl backward, away from the man, even though she wasn’t sure why. The sudden movement made her head spin, throwing off her balance until she found herself pathetically crawling on her side, tearing her hands on exposed rock and pine cones and tree roots, but she didn’t care. From deep inside something screamed at her that she had to get away.

A second man stepped through the trees, into the small clearing. He was bigger than the event security guy. He, too, carried a flashlight. When he got closer, she could see the light shining on a badge, and that he wore the uniform of a Miles County, Idaho, deputy sheriff. The county where her home was located. It was one more thing that didn’t make sense.

Confusion made her head pound. And then she realized something else was making her head pound. It actually felt sore.

“Confirm, we’ve found Melanie Graham,” the deputy said in a deep voice into his collar mic. “Get emergency medical services moving toward my location.”

At the same time Melanie reached up to touch her sore, aching head. Her hair felt damp. Even before she looked at her fingertips in the glow of the two flashlights, she knew by the coppery scent that she’d touched blood.

What had happened to her?

Her body began to tremble. Her head started to spin even faster. She couldn’t catch her breath.

“Melanie.” She heard the deputy say her name, but she couldn’t stop staring at the blood on her fingers. Couldn’t stop trying to peer past the shrouded memories in her mind and figure it out. How did she get here?

“Melanie.” The deputy’s deep voice was louder now and it broke through her trance. She turned to him. He crouched beside her. Dark hair, dark eyes, the expression on his face focused and thoughtful, yet compassionate at the same time. “You’re safe,” he said.

Safe from what?

“I’m Lieutenant Luke Baxter,” he said. “I’m a deputy sheriff.” He reached out his hand, but didn’t actually touch her. He waited for her to make the first move.

Finally she took his hand. “What happened?” she asked, struggling to sit up.

“Wait,” he cautioned, while holding up his other hand in a staying gesture. “It would be better for you to wait until the medic checks you out before you start moving around too much.”

“What happened to me?” she repeated.

He lifted an eyebrow. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

“I don’t even know where I am.” Her voice caught and she could hear a sob rising up in her throat. She’d never felt so lost in her life.

The deputy squeezed her hand a little tighter. His touch, along with the feeling of calm and strength emanating from him, made her feel a little less panicked. “You’ve obviously sustained a substantial blow to your head,” he said. “That can leave anybody addled. We’ll get you to a doctor as soon as we can.”

She heard tree branches snapping, boots stomping on hard-packed dirt, and people talking, and then an emergency medical crew stepped through the trees and into the clearing.

“What’s the last thing you can remember?” the deputy asked.

Melanie got the impression he was in more of a hurry now. That he wanted to get all of the information he could from her before the paramedics transported her to the hospital.

She tried hard to think back, but the last thing she could remember was being in the hotel in Wyoming. A flare of panic threatened to push the sobs she’d been swallowing back up to the surface again. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She squeezed the deputy’s hand a little harder, because right now he seemed like the only certain thing in her life. The only anchor she could hold on to.

Which was crazy, because she’d only just met the man. But she didn’t want to face any more strangers right now. Didn’t want to feel any more bewildered and overwhelmed than she already did.

“Oh, dear Lord,” she began to pray softly, uncertain what she would say next. And immediately the thought came to her. I will be with you always.

She was never alone, even if she felt alone. How many times had she reminded herself of that over the last couple of years, as she’d pieced her life back together? Lots of times. Her lungs were tight with fear, but she managed to take a deep breath and blow it out. She loosened her grip on the deputy’s hand without actually letting go of him and answered the paramedic’s questions as best she could.

During pauses in her conversation with the medic, Melanie spoke to the deputy. “The last thing I remember is going to sleep in my hotel room in Wyoming.”

By his long silence she could guess he was trying to decide what he should say to her.

“I realize I must be back home in Miles County,” she said.

“Where do you live?”

“In Bowen.” The biggest city in the county. Which didn’t mean it actually was a big city. Some people probably wouldn’t call it a city at all.

They were interrupted while one of the medics talked to her, shined a pen light in her eyes several times and felt around for any apparent broken bones. Her head still pounded, but at least the dizziness had subsided.

“You aren’t far from town,” Luke said while the medic called in to the county hospital’s emergency room, with an update on Melanie and a request for further directions. “You’re in the woods just south of the county fairgrounds.”

“Oh, that’s a weird coincidence,” she said. “I’m going to have a booth there, where I’ll sell my jewelry during the rodeo in a couple of weeks.”

“Tonight was the last night,” Luke said.

“Of the rodeo? How can that be? It’s two weeks in the future.”

“It ran this past week, as scheduled.”

So she’d lost two weeks of her life? That wasn’t possible. Panic started to raise its ugly head again. She could feel her heartbeat speeding up. Her face getting warmer.

“How did you know to come out here, into the woods, looking for me?” she asked, not certain she wanted to hear the answer.

Once again he took his time in answering. Probably concerned any information he gave her might traumatize her even more.

“Please tell me,” she said as calmly as she could. “I have a pretty vivid imagination. And sometimes that isn’t a good thing.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You had an assistant working your booth with you.”

“I always do that. So I can take a break without having to lock everything up.” And then a terrible thought crossed her mind. “Peter Altman. Is he all right?” She held her breath while waiting for the answer.

Melanie rented space to sell her handmade jewelry, as well as antiques and small pieces of restored furniture, in The Mercantile, downtown. Peter was a year out of high school, looking to work as many hours as he could to save money for college. The owner of The Mercantile had recommended Peter, and it had worked out great.

Luke nodded. “The rodeo was over. Many of the vendors had already cleared out. You’d packed up your inventory and were ready to leave when you gave Peter permission to grab something to eat.”

“A lot of the food sellers will give away leftover cooked food rather than throw it in the trash, when they’re closing up.” Melanie was trying to picture what Luke was telling her. And trying to guess what he would say happened next. Maybe even remember what happened next. But she couldn’t.

“Peter was surprised when he came back and you weren’t in your truck, waiting for him. And worried. He tried to call you on your phone, but you didn’t answer. Then he started literally calling out for you, all around the exhibition hall, where you’d been located, and then outside.

“He got event security out searching for you. And then one of the searchers heard gunshots from this direction. Several people called in, reporting they’d heard gunfire, and I got here as quickly as I could.”

Melanie stared at him, trying to take in everything he was telling her. None of it seemed the slightest bit familiar. Moving slowly and feeling a little bit queasy, she once again reached her hand up to her head. “Have I been shot?”

Luke looked to the medic who’d been taking her initial assessment.

“Melanie, we need to roll you onto this backboard,” the medic said in response. “Once we get you checked out at the hospital, we’ll have all the facts.”

“I can probably walk,” she said.

“No, we don’t want you to do that,” he responded. “We don’t want you walking until we know the extent of your injuries.”

She turned to Luke as he slowly let go of her hand. “I need to get to work on finding out exactly what happened to you,” he said. “But first I have to ask, do you have any enemies? Anyone you think could have done this?”

“No.”

“Has anyone ever threatened to harm you? Kill you?”

“No.”

His questions seemed ridiculous. But then the seriousness of his line of reasoning began to sink in. Was it really possible someone had wanted to kill her? Why?

And if so she had no idea who that person might be. Which meant they could walk right up to her and try to kill her again. And the next time she might not be able to get away.

* * *

“Is this all you have for security footage of the parking lot?” Luke asked impatiently. “It’s not much help.”

“That’s all there is, Lieutenant.” Don Chastain, the chief of event security for the fairgrounds, rubbed his hand over the sprinkling of gray stubble on his chin. They were standing in his office.

“Luke, you’ve responded to calls here before,” Don added. “You know our biggest problem is geniuses trying to break into the exhibition halls or the main office, in the middle of the night, because they apparently think we store chests full of gold in there.” He shook his head. “Normally we just deal with your garden-variety foolishness. And drunk and disorderly, of course. We’ve never had to worry about people getting shot at before.”

Biting back his impatience Luke once again watched the shadowy, low-quality video of the parking lot. Just in case he’d missed something the other three times he’d watched it.

He hadn’t. The single fixed camera was focused on a section of the parking lot, far from the spot where Melanie Graham was seen standing beside the cab of her pickup truck, prior to the attack. The images didn’t show anything notable. Just people walking to their vehicles and leaving.

All right, that was a dead end. Time to try something different. Luke turned to the rail-thin eighteen-year-old kid standing a couple of feet away from him. Technically being eighteen made the guy a man. But dressed in an oversize green-and-white plaid flannel shirt and sharply creased blue jeans, sporting a big silver belt buckle, he really did look like a six-foot-tall boy.

“Peter, did you see anybody walking up to Ms. Graham when you left to get something to eat?”

“No, sir.”

“Any odd behavior on her part? Did she seem worried or nervous?”

Peter shook his head.

Luke was hoping to get some kind of lead quickly. Right now one team of deputies was searching through the woods, trying to pick up any trail of a fleeing perpetrator. A second team, together with two forensic specialists, was combing the area where Melanie Graham had been found.

Once Melanie had been driven away in the ambulance, Luke had gone looking for Peter. So far he was the closest thing Luke had to a witness. But the kid was understandably shaken up. Hoping he’d be able to offer some useful information once he’d calmed down, Luke had asked him to hang around for a bit.

“I guess the guy got away with all Ms. Graham’s money,” Peter said, shaking his head sadly.

“It wasn’t a robbery,” Luke said. Or if it was meant to be a robbery, it wasn’t successful. Melanie’s purse had been recovered from her truck, complete with her wallet, phone and about forty dollars in cash. He’d seen it for himself, and he’d tucked the purse beside her, on the backboard, after she’d been loaded into the ambulance.

“So, I guess that means you found the lockbox?” Peter asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

“What lockbox?”

“A blue metal box she had on the front seat of the truck.”

Luke had looked through the truck and arranged for both the truck and trailer to be securely stored at the fairgrounds until Melanie could have someone come get them. The trailer had been closed up, with padlocks threaded through the door latches, and there was no sign that anyone had tried to break into it.

“What did she keep in the lockbox?” Luke asked. “Money? Her receipts for the day’s sales?”

“Yes,” Peter said. “She also put some of her more expensive jewelry in there. The things she made out of gold. There’s not very much of that. Most of it is silver.”

If the thief tried to pawn the stolen jewelry, that would give them the start of a lead on who they were looking for.

Maybe what happened to Melanie Graham tonight was a simple strong-arm robbery, but it seemed odd. There were several other vendors who would have pulled in a lot more money, particularly the food-and-drink sellers, who typically dealt in cash.

There was that small window of opportunity when Peter went to get food and Melanie was left alone, but who would have known she’d have cash and be by herself at that exact moment?

So, what might have happened? Somebody walked by at just the right time, saw their opportunity and tried to rob her? She grabbed the box and ran, and they chased her and then shot at her? For an unknown amount of money? With witnesses around?

That was hard to believe. But anything was possible. And he really wanted to catch whoever had done this.

Luke had spent a few years in the military. He’d been injured several times. Been knocked unconscious twice. He knew what it was like to open your eyes and be disoriented. It was a hollow, lonely feeling. He’d recognized that lost feeling in her eyes. He’d been relatively fortunate with his own injuries, and his disorientation hadn’t lasted for long. He hoped the same was true for her.

He pulled out his phone and punched in the number for a deputy working the crime scene in the woods. “Any chance you’ve found a blue metal lockbox?” he asked when the deputy answered.

“No. Are we looking for one?”

“Apparently there was one in the cab of her truck, but it’s gone now.”

“I’ll pass the word to keep an eye out for it.”

“What have you found so far?” Luke asked.

“Bullet casings. Partial footprints. A tree branch with blood on it and a few strands of hair. It was lying on the ground, near the spot where Ms. Graham was found. Of course we’re going to check to see if the blood and hair are a match for her or if they belong to someone else.”

“She’s been admitted to the hospital, so I’m going by there later this evening to check on her. Maybe she will have recovered some of her memory by then.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll be back over there at the crime scene in a few minutes.”

Luke disconnected and turned to Peter. “Is there anything else you can think of to tell me?”

Peter cleared his throat. “No, sir.”

The kid was still pretty pale and his hands were trembling. After ten years in the military, including several tours of combat, and his time as a deputy sheriff, it was hard for Luke to imagine how he would have reacted at the age of eighteen to having his employer attacked while he was just a short distance away.

He’d played football in high school and grew up on a ranch, so when he was eighteen he’d thought he was tough. But he wasn’t. Witnessing how inhumanely people could treat each other was shocking. You had to learn how to keep your emotional distance so you could be useful at your job. So you stopped being shocked by brutality. Or told yourself that was the case, anyway.

Luke’s brother, Jake, had warned him on one of Luke’s visits home on leave that he was getting too good at the emotional-distance thing. And after he’d moved back to Idaho to help Jake with his kids, Luke had tried to work on that. Leaving the Army after his enlistment period ended was a tough decision. But it was one he’d had to make, because he’d had no idea how long his brother would need his help.

“How are you holding up?” he asked Peter. “You’ve been a lot of help, and I appreciate it. Do you need me to have a deputy drive you home?”

“No, sir. I called a friend to come pick me up and he’s waiting in the parking lot.”

After Peter left, Luke wrapped things up with Don and went back to the crime scene to see how the investigation was going. The perpetrator hadn’t been found, but he’d left a trail through the woods that looped back to the two-lane highway winding through this part of the county. The guy could be anywhere by now.

If Melanie could eventually remember what the perpetrator looked like, there was the slim chance they could find an image of him on video. And from there, maybe link him to a vehicle license plate. A purchase made with a credit card at the fairgrounds. Something.

Confident that everything was being properly taken care of at the crime scene, Luke headed for the hospital. He arrived just as visiting hours were ending. When he stepped into Melanie’s room, he was immediately greeted by a young red-haired woman who introduced herself as Melanie’s cousin, Anna.

“How is she doing?” Luke asked Anna in a quiet voice. He could see Melanie lying in bed, a blanket pulled up nearly to her chin, looking tired and groggy.

“She has a concussion,” Anna told him. “But no fractures. And no gunshot wounds.”

“Thank You, Lord,” Luke said softly.

“Amen,” Anna agreed. “They’ve given her some painkillers and a sedative so she’ll sleep.”

“Has she regained any of her memory?”

Anna shook her head. “She still doesn’t remember anything since she left Wyoming two weeks ago.”

Melanie’s eyelids fluttered open and she called out to Luke. “Hey, deputy.”

Luke walked over to her. “How are you feeling?”

“Sleepy.” She had bandages on one side of her head, and dark circles under her eyes. “Thank you,” she mumbled, giving him a half smile. “And please thank the event security man who found me.” Her smile started to falter and tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “Something happened to me,” she said, with confusion evident in her eyes. She reached her hand up to touch the bandages on her head and gave him a pleading look. “What happened to me?”

“I’m going to do my best to find out.”

Over the intercom, a voice announced the end of visiting hours.

“I’ll talk to you again later,” Luke said to Melanie as he headed for the door. And then to Anna, he said, “Can I speak with you for a minute?”

She followed him out into the hallway, calling back to Melanie that she wasn’t actually leaving for the night just yet.

“Do you have any theories on who might have attacked her?” Luke asked. “Does she have an angry business partner? Maybe a boyfriend she broke up with?”

“She has an ex-husband, Ben,” Anna said. “But he was the one who insisted on the divorce—told her he wanted to start a new life without her—so I wouldn’t suspect him. I really can’t think of anyone.”

Luke glanced up and down the hallway, frustrated that he had no idea what the perpetrator looked like. “Do you know how long she’ll be in the hospital?”

“There’s a good chance she’ll be able to leave tomorrow morning.”

“Do the doctors have any idea how long it will take for her to regain her memory?”

“They said it could happen as early as tomorrow morning. Or it could take a few weeks.” Anna’s eyes teared up. She looked away and blinked rapidly. “Or the memories of the past two weeks might be gone forever. So she’d never be able to remember who attacked her, and that criminal would get away with it.”

Luke sighed. He could not let that happen.

* * *

“When you get home try to relax as much as you can,” the doctor said to Melanie as she tapped the information for Melanie’s prescription into an electronic tablet. “You need to heal from the emotional trauma, as well as the physical injury. So don’t try to force yourself to remember things. Otherwise you could end up right back here in the hospital again.” The doctor’s smile was kind, but she also managed to make it clear that she wasn’t kidding.

Melanie remembered waking up in the woods last night. But prior to that, she still only remembered going to bed at the hotel in Wyoming. Not trying to remember what happened during those missing two weeks was difficult. Like trying not to scratch an itch.

The doctor left and Melanie turned to Anna. “All right, cousin. Let’s roll.” Hospital protocol required Melanie to sit in a wheelchair and be pushed out to the parking lot, even though she felt like she could walk.

“I need you to take me back to the fairgrounds, to get my truck and the trailer,” Melanie said as soon as they were in Anna’s sedan.

Anna turned to her with a cheery smile. “No.” Despite the upbeat tone, Melanie could see the dark circles under her cousin’s eyes, and the paleness of her skin made the freckles scattered across her face stand out even more defiantly.

Melanie wasn’t the only one suffering in the aftermath of this bizarre attack on her. Anna had already done so much for her. And she had a husband, Tyler, serving in the military, overseas. Anna had enough weight on her shoulders. She didn’t need anything added to that.

“That deputy said your truck and trailer are securely stored at the fairgrounds,” Anna added as she turned the key and fired up the car’s engine. “The smart thing for you to do is to go back to the house and unwind. We’ll get your stuff later.”

“Fine.” Actually, going back to Anna’s restored Victorian house, where Melanie rented a couple of rooms, one to use as a bedroom and the other for an office, sounded like a good idea. Closing the shades, lying in her bed and hiding from the world sounded like a great idea. Maybe she could numb her brain with mindless TV, as well. Because, although she was trying very hard to stay upbeat around Anna, her thoughts wanted to drift to some very dark places.

Someone had tried to kill her. Apparently for money. She had come in contact with someone evil. How was it possible someone could be like that? And how safe was anyone, ever, when there were people like that in the world?

Melanie began to tremble. A cold black wave of fear crashed over her, seemingly from out of nowhere. She couldn’t catch her breath, and she quickly rolled down her window for some fresh air.

Anna glanced over at her. “You all right?”

“Coffee,” Melanie said hoarsely. “Coffee would make me feel better.”

“Sure.”

Anna made the turn to take them to their favorite coffee shop. Melanie flipped down the sun visor and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Pale. Bruised. Looking like someone who’d been attacked.

The trembling got worse, and the midsize sedan suddenly seemed way too small. Melanie wanted to get out of the car. She wanted to jump up. She wanted to run. She needed to get away. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know why.

The coffee shop didn’t have a drive-through. Anna pulled into a parking space behind it, near the back entrance, and Melanie threw open her door before the car was completely stopped.

Anna gave her a questioning look.

“I’ll take my usual,” Melanie said to her. She gestured toward the front of the store, where there was a strip of grass and a couple of picnic tables. “Let’s drink our coffee while we sit outside. In the sunshine. I’ll meet you over there.”

Hiding in her bedroom seemed like a horrible idea now. She needed to be outside, where she could move. Where she could run. For a split second she had a flash of memory. Of being chased in the woods.

The coffee shop was in an area with both businesses and residences. Moving down the alley, Melanie could see into people’s backyards. See the houses, where normal life was going on. Where people felt safe.

Suddenly someone threw something over Melanie from behind her. A thick, heavy dark cloth that covered her head and shoulders and arms, down to her elbows. Before she could react, they wrenched it tight, pinning her arms to her sides, forcing the air out of her lungs. Then they started dragging her backward.

She tried to scream, but the cloth was tight across her mouth and she couldn’t get enough air. Terror and panic set her heart racing. She fought again for a deep breath, but the cloth was pulled even tighter across her mouth.

The world began to spin. The sounds around her were muffled, but she could hear a dog barking. She started to feel strangely detached from everything that was happening around her. After that, there was nothing.

TWO

“The guy who lives in the house next to the coffee shop, Jon Stoker, called the cops to report the attack on you,” Luke said to Melanie. “His dog wouldn’t stop barking. He came out to see what the problem was and saw someone with a blanket pulled over your head, dragging you across the parking lot.”

Melanie touched her fingertips to her lower lip, grateful to be alive and appreciating more than ever the ability to take a deep breath.

“When Mr. Stoker saw what was happening, he yelled and the person dragging you let go of the blanket and ran. Mr. Stoker hurried into his house for his phone and then came back outside while he called 9-1-1. He heard the roar of some kind of vehicle driving off, but he couldn’t actually see it.”

Melanie had apparently regained consciousness right after the attacker had let go of her. Anna had heard the commotion and hurried outside. She had pulled the blanket off Melanie just as Melanie was opening her eyes.

“The Bowen city police have been out, patrolling the neighborhood and going door-to-door, looking for anybody who witnessed anything. They also talked to customers and employees inside the coffee shop.”

Melanie, Luke and Anna were sitting in the front parlor of Anna’s house. Both Melanie and Anna loved vintage clothes, jewelry and home furnishings. The heavy furniture, thick curtains tied back with knotted silk tassels, crocheted doilies on the table tops and richly colored rugs on the hardwood floor gave Melanie a familiar feeling of stability and comfort. Something she desperately needed right now.

Luke had called ahead to ask if he could visit with Melanie for a few minutes. He’d arrived a short time ago, and Anna had invited him in and offered him tea, which he’d politely declined.

Luke sat in an upholstered club chair, with his sheriff’s-department-issued cowboy hat in hand, leaning forward a little as though he were already anxious to leave. Melanie was across from him, seated at the end of a couch, clutching the couch’s arm so tightly, her right hand was nearly numb. But she didn’t care. It was something solid. And right now there wasn’t much in her life that felt solid. Instead everything seemed disturbingly dreamlike. Normal life felt like something that had vanished a thousand years ago.

Anna sat close to her in a rocking chair.

“Did you go back to the hospital and get checked out by the doctor after this second attack?” Luke asked.

Melanie started to nod. Pain made her stop. Her neck was stiff after being grabbed and dragged in the alley, and she had a pounding headache again. Those pains didn’t mix well with the slight wave of dizziness that had come and gone, repeatedly, since she woke up this morning. For the moment it seemed best to stay as still as possible.

“I did see a doctor,” she answered. “I have no new injuries, other than a sore neck.” And a sense of impending panic that had started as soon as she had left the hospital, and it was apparently going to hang around for a while.

“This time I had nothing for anyone to steal,” she said to the large lawman sitting across from her. “I didn’t have my purse. I left it in the car. I wasn’t even wearing any of my jewelry. They made me take it off when I arrived at the hospital, and I put it in my purse.” Not that it was extremely valuable. She wore what she made. She’d splurged and made a few pieces using gold, but the vast majority of her jewelry was made of silver and semiprecious stones. She couldn’t afford anything more elaborate.

“This wasn’t a robbery,” Melanie said, with her voice sounding scratchy and tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “So, why is this happening to me?”

“I don’t know. But I intend to find out.” Luke cleared his throat. “Tell me what was in the lockbox,” he said. “Maybe that has something to do with all of this.”

Melanie blinked several times, trying to figure out what he was talking about. “What lockbox?”

“Peter told me you had a blue lockbox with you, all three days of the rodeo, and that it was with you in the truck when he saw you just before the attack at the fairgrounds. After that it was missing. It hasn’t turned up yet.”

Melanie stared at him, trying hard to remember her time at the rodeo, here in Miles County. But her efforts brought her straight to a blank wall. And the harder she tried to remember, the closer she got to that feeling of panic. “I can’t remember,” she whispered, afraid that if she spoke normally, she’d burst into tears or scream.

“You have that beige metal box you’ve used as a cashbox for a while,” Anna said. “Where is it?”

Melanie glanced at her cousin. “You can’t seriously be asking me that,” she said. “I don’t know where I’ve been for the last two weeks. How could I possibly know where that box is?” She started to shake her head and stopped when the pain started. “I don’t even know where the items I had left over at the end of the rodeo are.”

“Your trailer is still locked,” Luke said. “I haven’t seen inside it. But I have seen inside your truck. There are several clear storage boxes stacked in the back seat. Looks like your jewelry is in there.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Melanie said. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

“I can drive your truck and trailer back here,” Luke said. “Or wherever you’d like me to take them. You live here, correct?”

“Yes.” Melanie glanced at Anna, feeling bad for having just snapped at her. “I’ve lived here for the last year.”

Luke turned to Anna. “So, you know for certain that Melanie has been in town for the last two weeks, even though she doesn’t remember it?”

“Yes.” Anna nodded. “You came straight back here after your trip to Wyoming,” she said, directing the rest of her response to Melanie. “You arrived on time. You were happy. You’d sold some jewelry and that oak-dresser-and-nightstand set you’d restored. The one you bought from the Wilsons.”

“I remember that,” Melanie said, feeling like recalling it was some kind of triumph. “I remember arriving in Leopold early and going to the big flea market in the parking lot outside the rodeo, looking for things I could buy and fix up and then resell. I remember getting my booth set up inside the rodeo grounds and talking to customers. And I remember selling that oak-dresser-and-nightstand set to a newlywed couple.” Why was it that she could remember being at the rodeo in Wyoming, remember making that sale, remember packing up when it was all over and then...nothing?

“Stop it,” her cousin commanded in a kind tone. Anna glanced at Luke. “Her doctor told her not to try too hard to remember that missing stretch of time and risk getting herself upset. She’s supposed to relax and let her mind and body heal.”

“I’d like to see you relax after going through what I’ve been through,” Melanie grumbled. “I just think something must have happened after I packed up in Wyoming. Otherwise, why does my memory end there?”

“The doctor said recent memories sometimes disappear after a head injury like yours,” Anna said. “That trip was recent. Doesn’t mean anything significant happened there. And the doctor said there’s a good chance your memory will come back.”

Anna turned to Luke. “If you look at the security video from the bank and from several different stores in town, you’ll see she was here. And we can find plenty of witnesses if we need to.” She looked at Melanie. “You’ve got a hard head. Getting hit by a tree branch couldn’t have done that much damage. You’ll be fine. Give it time.”

Despite feeling miserable, Melanie mustered a slight smile. She didn’t have much family living around Bowen anymore, just a couple of cousins on her mother’s side and her dad’s widower uncle, and sometimes that bothered her. But the family she did have always came through in a pinch. Then she glanced down at her hands. They had scrapes all over them. She swallowed thickly. “Why do you think the guy who attacked me today didn’t just shoot me?” she asked Luke. “Apparently shooting me wasn’t a problem for him last night.”

“I don’t know. My best guess would be that he was afraid of witnesses. It was broad daylight. In the center of town. The sound of gunshots would have drawn a lot of attention.”

The doorbell chimed and Melanie’s heart sank. It could be some kind soul coming by to check up on her. And with her emotions all over the place and her strength fading, she wasn’t sure how polite she could be.

Luke got to his feet. “You expecting anyone?”

“No,” Anna said, walking to the door. Luke followed behind her. She pulled aside the narrow gauze curtain covering the strip of glass beside the door and looked out. “It’s a police officer,” she said.

It was a patrol officer stopping by to deliver the message that the chief of police wanted to make certain Melanie understood the police department would be working with the sheriff’s department to find the person who’d attacked her. Since the first attack took place in county jurisdiction, the sheriff’s department was taking the lead in the investigation. “But then I guess you already knew all this,” the officer said, glancing at Luke. “Since Lieutenant Baxter is officially in charge of your case.”

No, Melanie hadn’t known that. She glanced at Luke and he gave her a slight nod. From what she’d seen so far, the lieutenant was capable and compassionate. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she felt a flutter of attraction and the whisper of some deeper emotion in the center of her chest. Was it possible he’d had himself put in charge of her case because he felt something like that, too?

The officer didn’t stay long. As soon as he left, Anna ran upstairs to Melanie’s office to look for her beige lockbox. She came back a few minutes later, carrying it. There was a big dent in it, and as soon as Melanie saw it, she remembered dropping it in the parking lot behind The Mercantile.

“That’s right. It got dented and I remember buying the new blue one,” Melanie said to Luke, thrilled at the inkling of memory. “But I planned to use it the same way I did the old one. I didn’t keep drugs or secret government files or anything else you might be imagining in there. Just money. Not even very much, really. And a little jewelry.” Yet someone tried to take her life over that. It was hard to fathom.

Luke nodded and got to his feet.

He glanced around. “I don’t see any signs of a security system for the house,” he said. “I’d strongly suggest you invest in one. The police will patrol by here as often as they can,” he added. “Make sure you keep your doors and windows locked.”

A look of panic flashed across Anna’s face. “Let me check the back doors,” she said, heading for the kitchen.

Melanie stood up and walked with Luke to the front door.

“Tell me something,” she said, her words stopping him before he opened the door. “Both attacks must be related. Why do you think the guy came after me a second time?”

He hesitated, obviously thinking over his answer before he spoke. “Well, since he shot at you, it could be argued that the initial attack was attempted murder and not simply a robbery. And that could mean a pretty lengthy prison sentence. He’d have no way of knowing you were having trouble with your memory and couldn’t identify him. So maybe he came after you because he was afraid you’d identify him and send him to prison.”

“But that seems irrational. Even if I could recognize his face, what are the odds I’d ever see the guy again?”

“Apparently he thought the odds were pretty good,” Luke said. “Which makes me think he is someone you know.”

Luke stepped outside. Melanie closed and locked the door behind him. All the while a chill passed through her. Was it really possible someone she’d known had attacked her twice?

* * *

“Uncle Luke, come out here! Billy Clyde is in the mud again!”

Luke stood inside the stables at his family’s ranch. At the sound of his five-year-old niece Kayla’s voice, he turned toward the big open door to look at her standing in the sunlight. “Come on!” She waved impatiently at him.

Luke finished drying his hands on a tattered red shop towel and walked outside. His niece was already running ahead of him. She stopped and called out “Billy Clyde!” while slapping her thigh.

Billy Clyde, a scruffy brown-and-black dog of uncertain breed, was happily rolling in something on the ground in the corral. A couple of horses had been in that corral until an hour ago. Luke was fairly certain it wasn’t mud the dog was rolling in. And he was doing it right after they’d given Billy Clyde a bath.

“Billy Clyde!” Jake Baxter, Luke’s younger brother, walked from the ranch house, down the slight hill, and hollered to his dog. “Billy Clyde, come here!”

The dog paused, looked at him, then went right back to rolling around.

“I think that dog’s going deaf,” Jake said when he got up alongside Luke.

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Luke said as both men watched Kayla and her seven-year-old brother, Alan, race over to the dog. At their approach, Billy Clyde jumped up and started barking and playfully running away from them. “That dog’s getting up in years and he’s going to do what he wants to do,” Luke added.

“He’s always done what he wanted to do,” Jake muttered. “When he first showed up, he was skin and bones. Limping. Patches of his fur missing. Janelle felt sorry for him and spoiled him rotten. That is the true source of the problem with Billy Clyde.”

Luke glanced over at Jake, relieved to see that his brother could mention his late wife’s name without choking up. Jake and Janelle had married right out of high school. They had settled here, at the family ranch, while Luke joined the army and took off to see the world. Luke had come back to visit when he could. And, of course, when their father had died. Their mother had passed away when they were both young.

Luke had been energized by the adrenaline rush of serving in the military. Couldn’t imagine ever coming back and settling for a quiet ranch life, just a few miles outside of Bowen.

But then his sister-in-law had started to get sick. The end had come so swiftly for her that Luke was truly at a loss for words when he got the news while on an army base in Afghanistan. Even for a man who had faced the horrors of combat daily, when the phone call came, telling him that his upbeat, fun-loving sister-in-law was gone, he’d had a hard time believing it.

And his little brother had been a wreck. Not only had Jake faced the horror of losing his wife, but he knew from experience the feeling of emptiness left behind when children lose their mother at an early age. And worry for those kids started eating him up.

Eventually Jake pulled himself together. Kept putting one foot in front of the other, because he was tough. Always had been. He didn’t complain, but Luke had heard the heaviness in his brother’s voice when he talked to him. And he knew what he had to do.

Luke had been near the end of his tour of duty when Janelle had passed away. He hadn’t reenlisted yet, though up to that point he’d had every intention of doing so. Instead he finished his tour and came on home and moved to the ranch to help his brother. Not so much with managing the ranch. Jake had a handle on that. But with raising the kids. With getting on with life.

That had been two years ago. Being a Miles County deputy sheriff was a long way from the intense challenges Luke was used to facing on a daily basis. But once the kids were a little older, and he was convinced Jake was emotionally settled, Luke would get back to traveling the world. Seeing new things. Facing new challenges. Maybe he’d reenlist in the military. Or see what was available in the world of private security.

His thoughts drifted to Melanie Graham. He’d responded to assaults and strong-arm robberies before, but her case was certainly unique. One of the most interesting cases he’d worked in a while.

It was because of the amnesia angle, and the second attack taking place so soon after the first, that he’d made sure the sheriff’s department pushed to be the lead agency on the case. And he’d made certain he was put in charge of the investigation.

He found himself recalling Melanie Graham’s face. The fear and confusion in her eyes. He’d seen that so many times in combat. He couldn’t stand by and let somebody go through that without helping them. And okay, maybe he was a little motivated to help Melanie specifically. In just the small amount of time he’d spent around her, he’d been drawn in by the appeal of her strength and determination to work through the aftermath of the attack on her rather than remaining paralyzed by fear. Her warm hazel eyes and defiant smile, at moments when he knew she was afraid, had their appeal, as well. The woman was a fighter.

Luke wrenched himself back to the present and glanced around. Billy Clyde had let the kids catch him and they were rolling around in the thick grass outside the corral together.

“Little brother,” Luke said, turning and clapping Jake on the shoulder. “You are going to have to give both of your kids a bath tonight.”

“Tonight and every night,” Jake said agreeably. “Sometimes in the middle of the day, too.”

“I’ll give Billy Clyde another bath. Unless you want to make him stay outside tonight.”

Jake laughed and shook his head. “I can’t make that animal stay outside and he knows it.” Then, just like a cloud passing over the sun on a clear day, his expression completely changed. He cleared his throat a couple of times. “Janelle insisted we keep him after he showed up that day, and he was always really her dog. Maybe that’s why he’s always acting up. Maybe he misses her, too.”

Jake’s voice broke and he dragged his knuckles across his eyes, wiping away the tears that had slipped out.

Luke stood by him. As usual he was clueless about what he should say. But he knew there was power in having someone present when you were hurting. Even if they didn’t say a word.

By the time the smelly dog and the kids ran over to them, Jake had composed himself. “I’m starving,” Alan announced.

“Yeah, well, the way you two smell, it’s going to be baths first and then supper,” Jake answered.

The three of them turned and started up the hill to the house.

Luke headed back to the stables with the dog at his heels so he could fill the big tub in there with soapy water and re-bathe Billy Clyde.

* * *

“I still can’t remember what happened to me at the fairgrounds,” Melanie said to Luke, with exasperation burning in her chest like indigestion. “How do you expect me to identify the attacker in these pictures?”

Two days had passed since she’d been grabbed in the alley beside the coffee shop. Three days since someone had tried to kill her at the fairgrounds.

Physically and emotionally she’d taken a slight turn for the worse, once she was settled in her room at her cousin’s house, after the second attack.

Every time she let down her defenses, told herself to relax and tried to get some sleep, that panicky feeling would come back with a vengeance. Her neck hurt even more, as did the scrapes and bruises on the places where she’d hit the ground. She was afraid to take the sleeping pills and painkillers the doctor had prescribed for her. Because what if the attacker came back again? Tried to break into the house?

She was doing a little better now. Well enough to drive herself to the sheriff’s department’s office in town and meet with Luke to look at mug shots. Anna had offered to take her to the meeting, but she’d already missed enough work looking after Melanie. And it was a short drive. Melanie could handle it. Like so many things these days, she had to handle it.

When Melanie’s husband had filed for divorce, she’d needed somewhere to go. Anna had welcomed her with open arms. The rent money Melanie paid was appreciated. Anna made that abundantly clear. But Anna still needed to show up at the accounting firm where she’d recently gotten a job. And thanks to Melanie, she’d already missed two days of work.

Luke took a sip of coffee and set the mug on the conference table, where they were seated. There was an electronic tablet in front of him and he slid it over toward her. “These are pictures of men from this part of Idaho, as well as a few from Northern Wyoming who have a history of violent, strong-arm robbery, specifically targeting women.” The screen showed four images. She could swipe her finger across the screen to see more.

“Do me a favor and just take a look,” he continued. “See if anyone seems familiar. It’s possible you crossed paths with the attacker more than two weeks ago and that you’d remember him if you saw his picture. Maybe he worked alongside you at a rodeo or a fair or somewhere else where you were selling your jewelry over the last few months.”

That was possible. She’d been busy over the summer, traveling to as many events as she could.

“Or maybe he’s someone who’s seen you working at The Mercantile,” he added.

The Mercantile was a former general store in Bowen that had been renovated and turned into a crafts-and-antiques mini mall. Melanie rented space in the communal area, at the center of the store.

“Maybe someone got the idea to rob you after seeing you put money into that blue lockbox that’s missing. Or maybe they saw you put those few pieces of gold jewelry you’ve said you made into the box. Or perhaps something else,” he added, with his eyebrows slightly raised and a questioning expression on his face.

She didn’t like his tone when he said the words “something else,” and she turned to frown at him. Maybe she shouldn’t care so much that he was questioning her character, but she did. Probably because she’d felt a connection, like friendship, forming between them. And that made his comment strike deeper than it would have if it had come from somebody else. “If you think I had drugs or something stolen or illegal in that box, you’re mistaken,” she said icily. “I may not remember that box or specifically what’s in it at the moment, but I do know who I am.”

He held her gaze for several seconds and then finally nodded, though she didn’t think he looked convinced.

She knew he was a cop. People probably lied to him all of the time. He saw the worst of society. But that didn’t lessen the sting of his suspicion.

She picked up the tablet. Swiped her finger across the screen to turn the pages. It took a while, but she finally got to the end. No one looked familiar.

She glanced up at him, shook her head and found herself blinking back tears. It had been irrational for her to get her hopes up. To think she might somehow recognize the perpetrator in these pictures and bring this nightmare to an end.

Haven’t I been through enough? She thought of her husband’s betrayal and insistence on ending their six-year marriage. And the financial bottoming-out that followed the divorce. Now there were these attacks. It was too much.

She immediately felt ashamed of herself for giving in to self-pity. People suffered through a lot worse. Whatever is good and noble, think on those things. Clearly that was what she needed to be doing.

“Looking at mug shots is not our only strategy in this investigation,” Luke said. “It’s just one idea.”

Melanie nodded. “I’m willing to help any way I can.”

Luke reached for the tablet and she slid it toward him. “So, how are you doing?” he asked. Melanie started to fib, telling him she was fine. But then she thought about the promise she’d made to herself after being blindsided by her husband. Ex-husband. There was a lot Ben had kept secret. Including his relationship with the woman he’d begun seeing while he was still married to Melanie.

She should have seen it coming, she’d told herself. But how could she? In so many ways, she and Ben had barely known each other. They’d gotten married straight out of high school, moved to California, found jobs and started living their lives together.

Yet in so many important ways, they’d always been strangers. She just hadn’t realized it until the divorce papers were sitting on her dining room table, ready for her signature.

She couldn’t control other people—she accepted that—but she could control herself. She could keep the promise she’d made to herself to be open and forthcoming. And it was reasonable to expect the same thing from anyone she had a relationship with.

Not that she had a relationship with Lieutenant Baxter. Maybe the feelings she’d thought they were beginning to share were all on her part. Maybe she was reading something into the situation between them that wasn’t there, because she was afraid and feeling alone. In any event, being transparent was a standard she was setting for herself. So she would tell him the truth.

“My head and neck, and everywhere else I’ve been injured, have hurt for the last couple of days, but it’s better now,” she finally blurted out in answer to his question. “I’m still jumpy, though. I can’t relax. And I’m scared.”

And then, even though it made her horribly uncomfortable, she looked him in the eyes and waited for his reaction.

“I’m not surprised,” he said. “You’ve been through two traumatic experiences in less than twenty-four hours.” He glanced down at his phone screen and she thought that was the end of it.

But then he turned back to her, and looking slightly uncomfortable, he said, “My experience is that it takes a lot longer to work through the aftermath of a violent attack than you’d think. But if you hang on, and ask for help if you need it, you’ll be okay.”

“Right.” He hadn’t given her any advice that would make her problems disappear in an instant like she wanted them to. But the empathy he was expressing felt sincere. And the honest assessment that it would take a while for things to heal was probably something she’d needed to hear to make her expectations more realistic.

“Do you want me to help you get your truck and trailer to the house this afternoon?” he asked.

“I think the trip here is all I can handle today.” There was no reason for her to feel physically exhausted, yet she did. And that panicky feeling was starting to come back. Not as severely as it had felt before, but still it was there. She needed to get home before it got worse.

“Can we get them tomorrow?” she asked.

“Of course.”

They both stood at the same time. Her knees were shaky and she reached her hand out to the conference table to steady herself. Luke reached out and held on to her lower arm, keeping her from toppling over. His big, calm presence made her feel stronger. His touch sent a zing through her that she wished she could ignore.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, and he released her arm.

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” he said. “I need to get out of the building and do some patrolling, anyway.”

She’d come in the small sedan she kept for driving around town. Her truck was a gas-guzzler. Once she was inside the car, with the doors locked, she waved at Luke and he walked over to his truck.

Anxious to get back to the house where she hoped to rest and relax, Melanie started up the engine and then pulled out of the parking lot, onto the street.

In the rearview mirror she could see that Luke followed her all the way home. It felt reassuring to know he was there. And comforting to know that a man like Luke was looking out for her.

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